


Barkeep Confessionals

by IsleofSolitude



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, POV, Prompt Fill, Rambling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:35:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24031381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsleofSolitude/pseuds/IsleofSolitude
Summary: I don’t think it was delusional to feel like maybe it was supposed be someplace for us. Like, yes, for him. But also just, he carved out space for me, yeah?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 35
Collections: Name That Author Round Two





	Barkeep Confessionals

**Author's Note:**

> Title was generously supplied by Sk3tched.
> 
> Written for "Guess that Author" on a discord server. Organized by the wonderful @curtaincall.

I helped, you know. With all of it. Location finding, and what would go where. No often, but enough that I knew what he wanted. Knew his opinions, whether they were inspired or ridiculous. Kept him from losing it on opening day! I honestly don’t know if he knew that or not. Sometimes there was this little twinkle in his eye...other times he was so stone faced he could have been one of those statues. 

Doesn’t matter. Mah point, mah point, barkeep, is that I don’t think it was delusional to feel like maybe it was supposed be someplace for us. Like, yes, for him. But also just, he carved out space for me, yeah?

Like that couch. He never sat in it. Didn’t even need it! Asked him why he had it once, he de-defl--changed the subject. I’ve slept in that couch twice, only twice, it’s a shit couch. But it’s good for lounging while we drank--and he never got upset if I put my feet up or anything. Such a finicky bastard, yet never once said a word. It was a shit couch, but I think….would I be selfish thinking it was for me?

Yeah, you’re right, you’re right. I mean, not really, not allowed to want things for myself, gotta serve the great master, yeah? Gotta...Gotta get one over on everyone else but never have anything they don’t want me to have. Fucking Hell, just…

Well, it doesn’t matter now. That couch is gone. Everything is. He is, the books are, the bloody wallpaper--we fought over that, he insisted on trying out wallpaper. In a bookshop! There’s still one behind one of the shelves…

Was. Was one. Anyways. Tried out so many, wasn’t satisfied with any of them--kept trying to make tartan or flowered wallpaper---I said, I said to him “Wallpaper in a bloody bookstore?”

Eventually he decided on just the wood, but that bastard--he thinks he’s bloody hilarious, wallpapered his upstairs flat---and don’t even get me started on that! Only seen it just once, few days ago, and it’s still there. 

….Was still there. Can I get another bottle?

And it’s, you know, obviously the principal of the thing. He spent all this time collecting this, furniture and editions and knick knacks only to encase them in wallpaper. The furniture didn’t deserve that, no matter how many lumps it had. Wallpaper, ugly thing. I didn’t invent it but it’s something I took credit for--pain to remove, you know. Even with miracles at your disposal. 

Yeah, yeah, you’ve got customers, I know. Go on then.

I just, it’s like, I hated that wallpaper, anyway. But I loved him. And now everything is gone and everything is about to end so here I am.

Cheers.

**Author's Note:**

> Original title was meant to be "Lies you tell yourself" but it went in a different direction.
> 
> I headcanon that Crowley didn't know he was in love with Aziraphale until the bookshop fire.


End file.
